It's been a lousy night for Andrew. His girlfriend is behaving strangely. Where is she now? No one knows. And they had plans for the night; plans that were supposed to commence four hours ago.
The other night was lousy too: She ditched him, then he found her at her favorite bar, dressed to the nines. "When I asked her about it, she said, ‘I was hoping to run into you.' And one hell of an effort she made in that direction!" He laughs. He's devastated, like crumpled paper.
"You should walk away, man," Eric advises.
"That's exactly what I'm not going to do!" says Andrew. "I'm going to hang on." He embarks upon an oration on the value of love, of endurance, of humility. All very painful to hear. He's no dope, he really loves this girl. It explodes in everyone's chest like gunpowder.
"There's nothing I'm more afraid of than having my pride shattered," he says, "Now I can see that it was inevitable! I'm going to take my punishment."
A moment passes quietly. "Walk away," Eric repeats.
Eric has great luck with women, so he can do those things easily.